


Unctuous Draught

by LadyofSpiders



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M, Vaguely Implied OT4, and also thalyssra, lor gets to find out what "relax" and "stop working for once" are, suramar wine is involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28200729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofSpiders/pseuds/LadyofSpiders
Summary: "Regent Lord," The title was said drippingly sarcastic, and Lor'themar bristled. "As far as the First Arcanist is concerned, youareQuel'thalas."
Relationships: Rommath/Lor'themar Theron
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Unctuous Draught

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Tapestry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075352) by [Kingbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingbird/pseuds/Kingbird). 



Lor'themar finally set the quill down, stretching his aching shoulders. He didn't glance towards the clock to see the hour, but the black cast of the sky was unwelcome. His morning meeting would come far too soon, he was certain. He got to his feet, gently sorting the remaining papers- things that required his immediate attention, things that needed his signature, and things he could pass off to the others tomorrow morning. Lor'themar turned, mind still buzzing faintly about land disputes and the true place of the farstriders, planning to go rest on the loveseat in the private area of the office.

A sharp knock at the door stopped him. Lor'themar repressed a sigh. It was Kael'thas, because it was _always_ Kael'thas, either trying to goad him to bed, or to run off halfway across Azeroth. Lor had no real patience for either, but schooled his expression and went to answer the door.

And it was Rommath, instead, looking somewhere between baleful and bored. "Regent Lord."

"Grand Magister," It was always titles with Rommath. "Has something happened?"

"A request from Suramar." He answered bluntly, with neither Kael's nor Hauldron's glances or teasing. Lor felt his eye flicker, unconsciously, to the soft violet scroll held loosely in Rommath's hand. He waited for Rommath to offer it to him; the magister did not.

"May I see it?" It was difficult to keep the exasperation from his voice. Rommath barely blinked.

"No." Lor'themar couldn't help but flinch a bit at the sharpness of the word. Rommath did have a way with his diction and tone, but rarely was it gentle. "It isn't for you."

With those simple words, Lor'themar felt his heart sink a bit. "I... see." He managed. Perhaps Oculeth had written to Kael about the portal system, or Valtrois to Rommath about the ley lines. He cleared his throat. "So what needs to be done?" It was a simple enough and normal enough question.

Rommath seemed to draw himself up a bit, stalking into the room. "A request from the First Arcanist herself," He said. Revealing nothing. Lor'themar did sigh, quietly shutting the door. "She seems quite concerned about the wellbeing of Quel'thalas."

"Likely just the same as I am concerned about Suramar." They were so similar, the two cities- Their falls, their tragedies, their addictions. But Rommath had turned his withering gaze on Lor'themar, now. "Have I misspoken?"

"Regent Lord," The title was said drippingly sarcastic, and Lor'themar bristled. "As far as the First Arcanist is concerned, _you_ are Quel'thalas." Lor'themar tried to choke out a response- he was not, perhaps if one stretched the _council_ could be considered Quel'thalas but certainly not him- but Rommath kept talking. "Apparantly, Kael'thas told her about your abysmal sleeping habits. She... disapproves."

Lor'themar couldn't help the hiss that slipped between his teeth, or the hot flush rising to his face. "Grand Magister-"

"She has instructed me to ensure you rest, and take time for yourself, so that you do not work yourself into your grave." Rommath drawled. "More accurately, she instructed this of Prince Kael'thas, but I see little point in entrusting this to him."

Lor'themar took a slow breath, trying to calm down. Rommath... was trying to help him. Slipping this past Kael (and Halduron) was a kindness Rommath afforded few people, and Lor'themar needed to show appreciation for that. "Well," He finally said, sighing a bit. "I'm headed to bed now."

"Not the couch, I hope."

Lor bit his tongue. Rommath was _trying to help._ "Yes."

"Good- She sent along some gifts with the missive; I've had them sent to your room." Rommath said, almost smugly. Lor'themar was too tired to respond, walking the familiar halls up to his bedroom, Rommath keeping pace at his side.

True to Rommath's words, on the side table was a deep bottle of wine, and two low crystalline glasses. Lor'themar went over to inspect the bottle, the neatly done label. The note tied to the neck, written in Thalyrissa's smooth hand. _For Lor'themar._ He felt his heart flip oddly in his chest, gently untying the ribbon to pull it closer.

He scarcely registered Rommath coming up behind him, cracking open the bottle to pour for both of them. "Lor'themar?" The casual use of his name jolted him back to the present, and Lor gently took the offered glass.

He noticed Rommath had poured a glass for himself, and felt himself relax further. It was still strange to know that Rommath would let his defenses and cowl down both around him. Lor'themar sipped at the glass, and fought down the cough as it seared. And Rommath... laughed at him.

"Everything alright, Regent Lord?"

Lor'themar shook his head a bit. "It's good, but..." Stronger than he had anticipated.

Rommath barked out another laugh, took a sip, and instantly spluttered. "Oh, this is _foul-_ " Lor didn't laugh, but did afford himself a smirk. "Perhaps I was mistaken, and she's trying to poison you instead."

"Everything alright, Grand Magister?" Lor asked, voice droll. Rommath's eyes whipped to him. Lor'themar did chuckle at that, shifting to sit on the edge of his bed, sipping at the drink again. Behind the sharpness of the magic, there was a rich bitterness, mingled with an almost savory-sweetness. He'd have to figure out some way to repay Thalyrissa.

Rommath sat next to him with a huff, eyes flaring a bit as a different glass appeared in his hands, the mage sulkily curling around that. 

Lor'themar felt the magic seeping into his nerves, soothing worn muscles and the exhaustion creeping along his body. It was a comfortable heaviness, and he closed his eyes, letting himself settle into the feeling.

"Can I trust you to sleep?" Rommath asked, voice barbed again. Lor snorted.

"I do sleep most nights, Rommath."

"Forgive me, Regent Lord, I assumed the 'for longer than an hour' was easily inferred."

"Rommath." Lor'themar griped. It was too late an hour to put up with his snide remarks. The mage just huffed, and instead started busying himself with pulling down Lor'themar's hair.

Lor grumbled, but did nothing to really stop him, eyes sliding closed as Rommath eased out the braids, and finally shook his fingers along Lor'themar's scalp.

And he _sighed,_ feeling himself lean backwards against Rommath, finding the wherewithal to set the mostly-empty glass back on the nightstand before it slipped from his grip completely.

"This is probably why you're plagued with migraines." Rommath snipped, hands working down to Lor's neck and shoulders, and he had no real reply to give. Only a vague noncommittal noise, and the further attempt to not collapse bonelessly against Rommath.

Rommath finally withdrew his hands, moving to stand, and Lor'themar could only blink blearily at him. "Get undressed." The words were sudden, jarring, and Lor just sat there, baffled. Rommath huffed again, and bent over Lor to start undoing the ties of his jerkin. His hair fell over his shoulder as he did so, the smell of mana and spice flicking at the edge of Lor'themar's awareness.

"I hope you're not lowering my guard for some nefarious purpose." Lor'themar murmured, earning a snort.

"I would never do such a thing." That should have been more concerning, but Lor trusted Rommath. More than as he trusted any of his advisors- Rommath had the strength and tenacity that the rest of them lacked. It was admirable.

Lor'themar was eased out of his clothes, trying to help as much as he felt competent to. Rommath was being surprisingly gentle, hands soft and feathery wherever they happened to brush against his skin. Soon enough, he was left just in his britches, with Rommath giving him a fond look.

"Lay down," He murmured, so soft, and Lor'themar couldn't help the weak laugh that escaped him.

"I will be asleep before whatever you're planning."

And Rommath laughed in turn, eyes bright, gently pushing Lor down. "That _is_ the point."

Lor'themar let himself be moved and manipulated, ending up face down in his pillows, the blankets pulled away. It was a very roundabout way of getting him to sleep, he thought, but welcomed it all the same.

When Rommath put his hands on Lor's back, he was instantly struck with the musty smell of the woods- fallen leaf litter and damp bark, lynx fur and rushing streams. He sighed, melting impossibly further into the pillows as Rommath worked the oil into his skin, slowly easing out knotted and tired muscle.

"You know, Regent Lord," His voice was haughty again. "Perhaps if you went to bed more often than you do, this wouldn't be such an ordeal." Lor'themar, made wordless, had no reply. Was Rommath saying he would do this more often, if Lor would just show up for it? That was a dangerous thought.

He might never get any work done, then.

He was slowly aware of himself becoming undone, a lightness spreading in from his limbs, filling his head with an airy fog. He could stay like this forever, possibly, under Rommath's warm hands.

"Lor'themar?" He was jolted to awareness, blinking as he struggled to figure out where he was. Lor'themar pushed himself up a bit, whole body groaning in protest, and wiped at his mouth.

He blinked at Rommath, who was laying next to him, just watching him with his bright eyes. "What is it?" He asked, voice more rough than he wanted it to be.

"You fell asleep." Rommath offered helpfully, nearly purring.

Lor'themar tried to remember what was going on. "... I did warn you." Rommath smirked at that, letting out an offended sigh and moving to get off the bed. Lor'themar watched him move, and shifted enough to grab the mage's arm, pulling him close again, cupping Rommath's face as he drew them into a kiss. It was slow and languid, and certainly still exhausted, but Rommath slid easily against his chest, and Lor'themar could feel his thoughts starting to turn off once again.

" _Sleep,_ Lor'themar," Rommath said, reaching to pull the blankets up around them both, and Lor'themar was only too happy to comply.


End file.
